


A Patriarch's Request

by Butane Baby (Butane_Baby9)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Other Male Character - Freeform, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butane_Baby9/pseuds/Butane%20Baby
Summary: As he reflects on his life, "legacy" means something far different to Vegeta than when he first arrived on Earth. He's making decisions that frustrate his family, and they are taking matters into their own hands.





	1. Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> Vegeta is my muse throughout the Dragon Ball series because of his dynamic growth as a character. This story doesn't to stick to hard timelines, but it's set a little more than 25 years after Trunks' birth. I welcome your reviews, and thank you for reading!

Trunks had long missed having weekend brunch at his parents' house. Often on a whim, his mother Bulma would invite friends over to enjoy her and his father Vegeta's cooking. The arrangement was non-negotiable once she decided on it, which irritated her husband to no end. Prince Vegeta was a disciplined planner by way of his military training. The possibility of not having enough to serve their visitors suitably, and all at once, aggravated his already ill-tempered fastidiousness.

 

Trunks couldn't blame his father, though. Vegeta learned to cook human food from scratch, a notable change for the former mercenary and haughty aristocrat. The downside was he often shouldered the burden of retrieving supplies for however long the party lasted. Being an introvert, he preferred having a convenient exit, especially when everyone else guzzled rounds of cocktails. Bulma always expected the drunkest visitors - usually Krillin and Oolong - to stay overnight. Vegeta wouldn't be seen again until they left.

Trunks stared out the window, hoping this scene would unfold exactly as his mind arranged it. If he had his way, the house would soon be full of food and laughter. Having his sister Bulla there would be even better, but she was on another planet for a year of schooling.

Bulma flung the dining room door open and narrowed her eyes at the sight of him. Knowing he would be tackled, Trunks bent over so she could grab the top of his head and kiss it. It had been their ritual since he was a boy.

"Whatcha' thinking about, handsome?"

Trunks chuckled. This was a trick question. Bulma, in all her morning glory, was wearing a monogrammed lavender robe and slippers - which matched her hair, of course. It was obvious she was fishing for a complement. He thought the ensemble didn't look bad on her, but it wasn't that flattering either. She also looked more tired than usual. Better to avoid the subject altogether.

"Hey, mom. Nothing special. It's just been a while."

Bulma placed her hand on his cheek. "It has been a while. Although you're lying to me, I'm still glad you came. You sneaked in last night."

"Yeah, I trained in the gravity room and slept in the cabin," he said. "I'm kind of surprised your husband didn't come and spar with me. He usually senses my presence immediately."

"Oh, I'm sure 'The Prince of All Saiyans'  _knew_  you were around, Trunks. He felt no rush to inform me, obviously."

Trunks looked down and returned to the window. "So what's the deal? Vegeta rarely shuns a chance to beat the hell out of me when I offer it up to him."

"For heaven's sake, son. Can we  _please_  not discuss training? I have spent a quarter of my adulthood living out your father's existentialist struggles."

"And we all have to live with our choices. Don't we, mother?"

Anticipating her wrath, Trunks raised a finger to suspend the shoe she hurled at him in midair. Then, with his back still turned, he spun it over her head like a basketball.

" _Come on_ , mom. That was a lousy attempt at a sucker punch. You're losing your touch."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "That's no way to speak to your mother, and quit rubbing it in that I can't do that. You're worse than Vegeta!"

* * *

Almost an hour had passed since the two sat down for coffee. Bulma wasn't up for cooking so Trunks decided to start a meal - with some assistance from the house robots - and coax her into having friends over later. Then, perhaps, he could use his father's pride against him to get more help.

_Vegeta would rather eat rocks than allow me to upstage his cooking,_  he thought _._ Yet, he welcomed their reunion. Their estrangement had been hard on him. Oddly, he couldn't feel the full weight of his father's presence in the house, but he shrugged it off. Vegeta was masterful at being conspicuously absent when he didn't want to be disturbed.

That said, unlike Vegeta, Trunks saw no reason to obsessively monitor everyone's ki within a 10,000-mile radius, including family, at least not before breakfast. If the threat were significant enough, he felt assured that he would know.

The echoing of Bulma and Trunks' voices had roused Vegeta from his slumber. He sat quietly in his bed holding a small picture of Bulma and himself. After he and Goku defeated Majin Buu, he never left home without it, even when he trained. She didn't know, and neither did anyone else. Over the years, he fantasized that her world would remain peaceful as long he carried it. It had been ages since he and the other Z-fighters faced mortal danger. Unlike when he first arrived on Earth, he didn't long for another lethal battle without carefully considering the outcomes.

This wasn't one of his better days physically. His chest ached from coughing, and his arms and legs felt like lead. He had no intention of staying in bed, though, at least for a while. When he wanted something badly, he had no qualms about ignoring how his body felt to get it.

"My stupidity and pride motivate me," he muttered to himself, and he needed to see his son.

He also couldn't resist hearing what Bulma was up to either. She had never been a quiet person, but her laughter from the kitchen was the closest she had ever come to cackling. If any of her jokes were about him, the fight was on. No one in their family could trash talk better than he. Still, he was pleased that she was enjoying herself instead of worrying about him. Trunks was a different matter. Even in his weakened condition, Vegeta sensed his son's melancholy from the time he arrived. He expected it. They hadn't spoken directly in a year, and the reasons were complex. A lot could be said between them, but he wondered whether some things should be said.

Bulma was waiting for him to take the lead, he figured. Hearing their chatter, he knew she hadn't told Trunks about his illness and their disagreements over it. That would come soon enough. He leaned on the wall and began to cough as he approached the kitchen. Suppressing his energy had begun to take its toll.

Bulma bit her bottom lip and faced the door.

"Trunks, hand me that glass next to you. Your father's coming in."

As he entered, she took Vegeta's arm and rubbed his back. Her response soothed him, but he waved her off.

"Just give me a minute, Bulma. Do not worry. I will be fine."

" _Quiet_ , Vegeta. Drink this. I set it aside for you."

Confused, Trunks stared at them. "Mom, what's going on?"

After a few minutes, the couple moved in opposite directions to collect themselves. Relieved by Vegeta's recovery, Bulma caressed his chin.

"You really need a shave," she whispered in his ear. "Well, maybe not. I forgot how sexy your grubbiness can be sometimes."

" _Hn_." Vegeta crossed his arms and turned his head. "I see nothing humorous in your comments about my appearance."

"You may not, but I sure do. That's what you get for eavesdropping. You really should be in bed, though. If you're a good Saiyan prince, maybe I'll come  _take care_  of you, if you know what I mean."

"Ugh." Trunks shut his eyes. "Can you please not go there, and would one of you tell me what's going on?"

Vegeta breathed heavily as Bulma locked her arms around his waist and kissed his forehead. "You can be so vulgar, woman."

"I learned from the best, sweet cheeks," she said with a bright smile. "You know you love it."

Vegeta's calmness surprised Trunks. His parents were fiercely devoted to one another - and were still hot for each other, no doubt - but his father often reacted self consciously when Bulma carried on like this, even in front their children.

"And just what  _are_  you staring at, boy?"

_And so it begins._  His father's attempts to open conversation almost always caused tension. The Prince liked it that way because people usually got to the point faster. His greetings had become more entertaining over the years, too. They were running joke among their family and friends.

Bulma glanced at her watch and sat down. It had been days since Vegeta felt well enough to be pain in the ass. He was more pleased to see Trunks than she expected, and that pleased her.

" _Well?"_  Vegeta said. _"_ Have you lost your ability to speak?"

Trunks shook his head and sighed. " _Well_ , hello to you too, sunshine. I apologize for staring. I'm just concerned. You don't sound so good."

Vegeta had also lost weight, but Trunks knew better than to say it. Their family was a vain bunch: No one tolerated repeated assaults on their appearance without eventually seeking revenge.

"He has bronchitis, son," Bulma said. "Dr. Atkins is treating him."

"That doesn't make sense, mom. He's never been sick a day in his life. I thought Saiyan immune systems had evolved enough to prevent illnesses like that. Isn't that what grandpa and Dr. Atkins determined years ago?"

Vegeta tapped on Bulma's shoulder to sit next to her. "Trunks, I am not one of your lab rats. I get enough of that from your mother."

Bulma frowned at him. "We know full-blooded Saiyans' immune systems are incredibly tough, but they aren't perfect. Remember when I told you about Goku contracting that heart virus when the androids arrived, when you were a baby? It was a miracle that he lived."

"Right, Bulma, a 'miracle' indeed," Vegeta said. "From what I recall, Kakarot did have  _some_  help."

"Give it a rest," she said. "You know what I mean."

As usual, her husband's sarcasm amused and annoyed her, but the predictability of their bickering felt comforting. Bulma never to read  _ki_ , but she felt Vegeta's emotions as if she lived inside of him. Some feelings he could never verbalize even if he tried, but she always knew when he was reconciling with parts of himself. Even as he joked, his weariness was obvious. It troubled her.

Bulma rubbed the back of Vegeta's neck and smiled at him. "Honey, why don't you return to the room? You've been up for a while. It sounds like medicine in the water helped, but you should probably take some more of it now. Trunks will bring food later. Try to eat more this time."

Vegeta bowed his head and stood. "As you wish."

_Uh oh,_  Trunks thought _._   _I know that look. He's going in for the kill._

"Woman, before I leave, you should know I am very disappointed with your use of seduction to monitor my vital signs," Vegeta said. "I know what that watch of yours does. Have you no honor? You could have just  _asked_  me."

Bulma removed the timepiece and twirled it on her finger. "Of course I have 'honor,' you arrogant bastard, but you should know by now that I've never had any shame. Now get out of here."

"You speak the truth, princess. All things considered, perhaps you should apply more of that shamelessness during sex. I have grown bored playing 'doctor' with you."

"And you call  _me_  vulgar? Get out, Vegeta!"

Given the circumstances, Trunks found his parents' behavior baffling. It was the most love struck - and lewd - they had ever been in his presence. The two even managed to grab each other's behinds before leaving the kitchen together.

After about an hour, Bulma returned to the kitchen in jeans and a T-shirt. She closed her eyes and gripped the side of the kitchen table.

Trunks put his arm around her shoulder. "You really are worried."

He immediately felt stupid for stating the obvious - and for sounding like he didn't share her concern. Bulma straightened herself and smiled.

"Trunks, would you pour fresh coffee into a thermos, please? He's sleeping now. I'm sorry I took so long, but I wanted to watch him until the medicine kicked in fully. Now, let's take a walk outside."

* * *

Bulma's cat, Flash, pawed at her ankles while she and Trunks stretched out in a field behind her estate. She wanted a cigarette badly, but it had been years since she smoked. She stopped after Vegeta stormed into her lab one day and said they wouldn't have sex for however long it took until she quit.  _That_  choice was easy. He gave her the cat after she got through the first year without lighting up. Considering how much he hated cats, she appreciated his acknowledgement of her sacrifice.

"How long has he been like this?" Trunks said. "You're sure it's bronchitis?"

"It's chronic bronchitis, and we don't know what caused it," she said. "You know he never tolerated my smoking around him. I noticed he was coming home more winded after training off and on this year, but I didn't think much of it at first. Then, within the last few months, everything seemed to hit all at once. He was having these bad coughing fits in the morning, so the doctor had to step in. This just isn't a normal progression for this condition.

"I mean, he's pushed so himself hard for so long, Trunks. Unlike when we were younger, I felt he had a better sense of his limits. Of course, he's  _never_  had many limits, but I haven't seen him and Goku fight together for a while either. He did pull back from helping Krillin train students."

Trunks wondered if other friends noticed something long before this. Someone had to. Maybe Goku knew, but he remembered that his mother's best friend - and Vegeta's longtime rival - was visiting another planet.

"I'm surprised that Krillin didn't find that strange, mom. Did you notice how he's walking too? He's unstable."

"And then there's weight loss," she said. "I haven't observed the doctor's examinations, as usual."

"I still don't understand why you made that deal with him. You never told me why."

Trunks' question annoyed Bulma. "It's not for you to understand, but let me help you anyway. Would you want me watching the doctor examine  _your_  balls at your age?"

She had a point, but his father was right about her brazeness. They all had their moments, but she absolutely had no verbal filter anymore. He felt somewhat embarrassed for being so prudish.

"I was never thrilled with the arrangement," Bulma continued, "but Vegeta and the doctor have never hidden stuff from me. Anyway, they both said I need more rest, so that's why he's sleeping in the guest room. I'm not sure how well that's going. He's using oxygen at night now. I just can't sleep until I know he can."

Trunks sat up and looked at her. "My god. Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"Your father said you needed to return here on your own free will - not because of this - and that he expected you would show up sooner rather than later. I couldn't take it anymore, so that's why I asked you to visit. I wasn't sure if you sensed anything was wrong. It's obvious to me now how much you both missed each other."

Trunks nodded. "Yeah, I suppose we have. So what's his course of treatment?"

"Well, an immunodeficiency or autoimmune disorder could've triggered the bronchial inflammation," Bulma said. "Understandably, the doctor doesn't want to prescribe antibiotics to prevent a secondary infection until your father agrees to further observation in a clinical setting. Vegeta said he's had enough exams and that he wanted the least invasive treatments first - but he's so worn out, Trunks. I just don't understand. He knows damn well this condition won't suddenly clear up. Dr. Atkins said he could develop pneumonia at any time, depending on how his immunity has been affected."

"Mom, is there anything else you can take from grandpa's and Dr. Atkins' research, or maybe from somewhere else?"

"Honey, it's been almost 30 years. They did a lot to reconstruct Vegeta's medical history after he settled here. Dr. Atkins, especially, has worked hard to manage the data from the space pod your father traveled here in, and from Vegeta and Goku's genetic profiles. But Dr. Gero probably had the most advanced research on them - while he was creating the androids to kill us all - but whatever. That asshole can rot in hell."

Bulma turned on her side and picked at the grass blades. She wasn't bitter about that part of her past. Her father once called it her and Vegeta's "maturation era." Before then, she was "just" the gifted scientist and spoiled brat from a wealthy family. The arrival of the Saiyan Prince and, later, the androids on Earth ushered in unparalleled dangers and disappointments. She always had a fighter's spirit, but the struggles she faced back then strengthened her sense of self.

Her pregnancy with Trunks was an act of rebellion, too. He gave her hope despite Vegeta's hardened refusal to commit at the time. From then she was determined to live vibrantly until the day she died. Every day with her family and friends was a gift. After the fighters' near-fatal battle with Cell, when Trunks was a toddler, Vegeta's choice to remain in her life was a tremendous exercise in patience. She wanted him there, but she didn't allow him to stay out of some misdirected sense of desperation.

"Son, I still worry that you and your sister may develop a health problem you're ill-equipped to handle later on, especially now with your father and all."

Trunks picked up the cat and handed it to her. "Well, we both know the human side has more than its fair share of faults over the Saiyan side. It's not like Bulla and I didn't get colds when we were kids - and the flu, and chicken pox, and…"

"And would you stop being a smart ass, please?"

"OK, OK. I'm sorry, mom. Let me talk with Vegeta some more about all of this."

"Actually, I need you to help me sedate your father and move him to the hospital."

Trunks couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Have you lost your mind? He will be  _pissed_."

"Look, Trunks, I don't give a shit about his pride right now. Effective today, I'm on leave as Capsule Corporation CEO to focus on him. I really need your support, honey. Please."

"I'm not sure this is the best plan, but fine. Vegeta will likely be too focused on irritating me to notice what I'm doing anyway."

Bulma laughed. "Maybe, but you should know by now to never underestimate the power of a true Super Saiyan. Be ready."

"I hate to say it, mom, but I'm astonished you haven't had some shouting matches over this. How could you joke like that in the kitchen just now?"

"Darling, your father and I have seen the best and the absolute worst of each other. Some disagreements may never resolve in a marriage, but you need humor to get through them - to remind you why you love that person. Vegeta didn't come to the idea of 'family' easily, Trunks. He's loyal to our relationship because I always understood that, and I kept my self-respect. I never told you this, but we considered separating after his battle with Majin Buu, but there was just no way. We wanted to protect you, and I think it would have broken something deep inside of him. And, well, we loved each other."

Bulma considered how much their children didn't know about Vegeta's past. Some parts were too painful and embarrassing for him to share. It was all for the best, she believed. It was his story to tell.

"Mom, what is it? You all right?"

"Yup, I'm just admiring the tulips over here. I planted them before your grandma Panchy died. I miss her."

Trunks squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I miss her too."

"Let me change the subject for a minute." Bulma wiped her eyes and faced him. "Your aunt and uncle are moving to Earth. They should be arriving soon. I wanted to surprise you."

"Really? You got them to move?"

"Nope. Vegeta asked Tarble and Gure more than a year ago to consider it. I was shocked - and they were thrilled. I'm glad they're coming, though. They're so calming to be around."

Trunks recalled the first time he met his uncle when he was a boy. A foot shorter than his older brother, Tarble was remarkably humble and deferential, especially for a Saiyan. No one knew, not even Bulma, that the Prince had a sibling until the younger man arrived on Earth seeking help.

"Do they know how he's doing?" he said.

"We've spoken recently," Bulma said. "Tarble didn't dwell long on Vegeta's condition. He asked me to take better care of myself."

* * *

As he lay in bed, Vegeta recalled the times he emerged stronger and wiser from his numerous battles. His conceit often led to some humiliating failures, but he worked hard to redeem himself over the years. He never stopped working hard to be the best - he and Goku.

Many indignities came along with being sick, which depressed him somewhat, but he didn't resent the experience. It had been a long time coming. He had managed to hide his physical decline for some time, but now he needed to conserve his strength. His spirits improved once he saw Trunks peeking through the door. The smell of the food alone was enough to wake him, even if he couldn't enjoy it completely.

Knowing that his father probably wouldn't eat that much, Trunks didn't bring a full platter fit for the typical Saiyan appetite. Considering what he planned to do, he also prayed for strength to mask his unease.

Vegeta raised himself on the bed. "It is rather pointless to hover out there like a thief, you think?"

"All right, I'm coming in," Trunks said. "I thought you were sleeping. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Am I safe to assume Bulma covered every last detail about my condition during your outing?"

"Of course. She told me everything, father."

Vegeta smirked at him. "You honor me with your modesty, son, but why do you not call me 'Vegeta' in my presence, as you do with your mother?"

Trunks was amused by Vegeta's glee over his discovery. Bulma was right. His father had missed him more than he thought.

"You just can't resist the wisecracks, can you? Look, here's some food if you're up for eating."

Vegeta's heart felt heavy as he looked over the spread. Trunks had prepared some of his favorite dishes.

"This looks very good," he said. "Have some with me."

"Uh, are you sure?"

"Take the opportunity while you can, boy. You know I am not fond of sharing my meals, not even with your mother."

After grabbing multiple plates of pork cutlets, ramen, and fruit from the food cart, Trunks placed a smaller tray on the bed. Vegeta fought the urge to laugh out loud as his son gorged himself. He was amazed that Trunks had waited so long to eat. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't have.

After a while, he cleared his throat. "I believe you have questions for me, son."

Trunks paused and glanced at oxygen device next to the bed. "You aren't well."

"I am fine right now," Vegeta said. "Ask your questions."

Trunks sat down on the floor. "What's all this about? Why are you resisting help? I know you have your 'pride' issues, but how can you not see that you're being selfish? Mom may put on a good show, but she's really hurt over this."

"I am no stranger to selfishness, son, but in this case I am not resisting anything. There is a difference."

Trunks pursed his lips to stay calm. Was his father mocking him?

"Just what the hell does that mean? We haven't seen each other in ages, and this is what I get from you? A deflection?"

Vegeta surveyed him. "You are more than entitled to your anger, but the source of it has less to do with your concern for your mother. I do not make things easy for anyone. Never have. Perhaps it is time, though, for you to stop allowing what you think and feel about me to run your life."

"Oh, that's rich," Trunks said softly. "You really are a piece of work. I have spent my life trying to meet your expectations. Remember the first time you said you were proud of me, the first time you hugged me?"

Vegeta felt the muscles in his face tighten. He vowed to be patient, but this question shamed him.

"Of course I remember, Trunks. You were eight years old. It was before I left you to fight Majin Buu. I was confronting certain death. I meant what I said to you, as I had never said it. I had not realized how foolish and incomplete I was as a man until that moment."

"Well, as I got older, I felt like you shut off part of yourself to me. Not so much to mom or Bulla - just me. What did I do wrong? We've had good times, but you have no idea how painful it's been to have you look past me - rather than at me - as a person, especially when we disagreed."

"I am looking at you now, Trunks.  _Now look at_   _me_."

"Go on."

"Son, I have accepted my flaws and tried to work on them the best I could. I hope that one day you will make peace with my mistakes as a father. You did nothing wrong, and my emotional burdens are not yours to shoulder. They will not become your legacy unless you allow it."

Trunks raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. "The truth is, while I know you love me, you wanted a son more like the Trunks from the other timeline. How could you not? He fought Frieza and the androids. He risked everything to protect everyone."

"That  _has_   _never_  been the case," Vegeta said. "The young man who fought with me showed insight and caring in ways I could not back then. It affected me deeply, and you grew up to be just like him, thankfully.

"Memories of my past overwhelmed me when you became a teenager. So perhaps I did 'shut off' at times, but I feared falling into another depression... a self-destructive one. I could not risk everything Bulma and I have fought hard to preserve - not ever. Beyond that, you needed a strong teacher, you were  _my_ son, and I had no intention of letting anyone else replace me, especially after Piccolo and Kakarot trained you in my absence. Then your mother and I had Bulla. She needed me too.

"I never intended to hurt you, but I did, and for that I am so very sorry. I expected a lot from you because I knew the innate depths of your strength, intelligence, and, most of all, your decency. I still expect a lot - I am still your father, after all - but my pride has little to do with it."

Trunks looked down. "Papa, I…"

"Do me a favor and eat the rest of this." Vegeta pushed the tray toward him. "It would be disgraceful to waste such a fine meal. We have answered our questions honestly, yes?"

"I guess so, but not entirely," Trunks said. "You know, mom asked me to drug your food, but I chose not to. I prefer that you just go to the hospital so she won't talk crazy anymore."

" _Hn_. Bulma's scheming does not surprise me. What nerve she has, having you do her dirty work."

"Well, yeah, but you're deliberately missing the point. Here, have some more water. Use the straw this time."

"Use the straw? I will do no such thing. I am not an invalid yet. Just give me the glass and call your mother in here. I need to speak with you both."

"She's on lockdown in her laboratory right now," Trunks said.

Vegeta blinked and shook his head. He started to feel dizzy and cold, but he didn't want to worry Trunks. There was more to discuss. The tightness in his chest set off another round of coughing despite his best effort to stop it.

"Let her... work then. She is soothing her anxiety, I suppose. I should probably rest more anyway until… before… we speak."

Trunks moved in closer as Vegeta became glassy-eyed and began to wheeze and cough harder.

"What is it?" Do you need more water?"

"No… son. No more water. I am feeling cold. It will pass. Would you turn on... no, I mean, hand me that pillow?"

"Sure." Trunks knew he needed to work fast before Vegeta's breathing worsened. "Rise up some for me. I think you're coming down with a fever. You're shaking."

As he leaned forward, Vegeta felt a jab in his left shoulder. He reached up to stop it, but the tranquilizer Trunks injected worked faster. His chest pain vanished, and he began to feel weightless and detached from his body. His consciousness embraced its relief from reality.

After a few minutes, Trunks bent down and attached an oxygen cannula to his father's face.

"Do you recognize me, papa?"

"You… look like my son."

"That's because I am your son. Now lie your arm down for me."

"Yes, of course. You are… my boy. I am so very tired."

Trunks placed his hand on Vegeta's wrist and sat on the bed. "I know you're tired, papa, but you're going to be fine."

* * *

Bulma felt guilty about her deception, but she believed it was more important for Trunks and Vegeta to settle their differences. After that, maybe her husband would do what she wanted. His pride would recover. The end justifies the means. She continued working while Trunks delivered his results onscreen from Vegeta's room.

"How is your father?"

"He's sedated and receiving oxygen," Trunks said flatly. "He's also murmuring a bit, but no fighting or any crazy hallucinations. Heart rate is up, which is probably more from the ketamine I gave him, and he has a fever. Chills began after we ate, but he didn't eat that much. Is the transport ready?"

"It is. Thank you, honey. I'll take it from here. Meet me at hospital later. I know this wasn't easy. How are you?"

"I'm fine, mom - really."

"We're still doing the right thing, Trunks."

He closed his eyes. "Right, yes."


	2. Do No Harm

Dr. Milo Atkins rubbed his eyes as he reviewed results from the chest CT scan for the fourth time. The hazy shadows on one of Vegeta's lungs resembled crushed glass. It had been three days since Bulma and Trunks admitted him to the hospital with pneumonia.

Before he died, Bulma's father named Milo guardian of his research on the Saiyans. After the old man's funeral, Vegeta said he expected Milo, who had dual degrees in medicine and biomedical engineering, to do a better job using him "as a pin cushion" than his late father-in-law. The Prince set a high standard, and Milo intended to meet it. They respected each other.

As he studied the test images, Milo couldn't help but feel like he had let everyone down.

 _Primum nil nocere_ , he said to himself. "First, do no harm" was medicine's collective oath, yet it seemed like harming had become his specialty. He hoped Bulma and the children would forgive him someday.

 _Enough of this_. He needed to find a cigar and relax in his office before facing the inevitable. It wasn't long after he told his assistant he didn't want to be disturbed that his intercom rang, which exasperated him. He had no plans to leave his couch to make anyone feel better.

After a few more rings, he flipped the access switch to respond.

"Whoever you are, tell my assistant that he's fired."

"Are you busy, Milo? It's me, Trunks."

"No, I am abusing my privileges as a medical director by smoking the best cigar I've ever had in my office. Come in and make yourself comfortable. Where is Bulma? We should discuss next steps for your father."

Trunks stood with his hands in his pockets. He didn't know Milo smoked. The irony wasn't lost on him.

"They're both asleep in his room," he said. "She's exhausted."

"Yes, I understand," Milo said. "We can discuss the test results again with her later. Now, please, have a seat."

Trunks didn't want to sit, but he sensed the doctor's discomfort, so he complied. It was the respectful thing to do. Milo then proceeded with showing him images from Vegeta's lung scan.

"Trunks, despite our best efforts to treat the chronic bronchitis, your father has developed a type of pneumonia rarely seen in humans now, let alone in humanoids. We performed a bronchoalveolar lavage and ran a genetic biomarker test. It's a tough bacterial infection, and not that easy to get, which means Vegeta's immune system has taken a big hit."

"Mom suspected as much," Trunks said. "So what  _aren't_  you telling me?"

Milo paused and chewed on his cigar. "What I dislike is doing any of this without Vegeta's full consent. He was in his right mind before you drugged him. It's been three days, and he's fairly stable, so I'm reducing the sedatives. We'll provide palliative care for pain and breathing discomfort, but he should have a chance to respond with his mind intact.

"I think we can treat him successfully, son, but if he gets worse you should have a plan to carry out his wishes. Understand?"

Trunks was in no mood for being lectured. The voices in his head were bad enough.  _Palliative care?_   _Isn't that for people who don't have long to live?_

He picked up a framed picture of his grandfather and Milo and on the desk. "Yes, doctor, I do understand, and you just confirmed that my father could've soon died had we waited longer, so I have no regrets."

Milo relit his cigar as Trunks handed him the picture.

"And let's be real, Milo. You could've refused more aggressive treatment after we brought him in, but you didn't. I trust that you'll continue doing whatever it takes to help him."

Milo had always admired Trunks' spirit, even when the young man delivered the verbal equivalent of a punch in the dick. He was polite, but he was definitely Vegeta and Bulma's son.

"Trunks, we have enough information to compound an experimental antibiotic that should match your father's body type, so that's some good news. It's made from two drugs once considered the gold-standard for treating humans with resistant strains of certain infections.

"Much larger doses are needed, of course, so we put in a central line to administer them, and he's on steroids to prevent further pulmonary deterioration. There may be times when Vegeta may feel too sick to respond to anyone. These drugs can cause side effects, like severe nausea, similar to chemotherapy treatments."

Trunks lowered his head. "Thank you, doctor."

Milo took Trunks' hands in his. "Let's keep our fingers crossed that his body won't reject the drugs. Any improvement gives us more time to nail down what's happening to his immune system."

* * *

Bulma had already left by the time Trunks arrived to check on his father. He had a couple drinks in him, but he was sure that he could "hold his liquor." He was relieved that Vegeta appeared to be sleeping comfortably.

The chair he sat in next to the bed was extremely uncomfortable. The situation almost offended him. How could something so simple be overlooked? He needed to get up and stretch.

As he leaned on the bed, within seconds he felt his entire body being dragged sideways. "What the hell?!"

Vegeta had pulled himself up to whack his son's head on the bed. Trunks managed to face forward to stop the collision before every piece of equipment overturned.

Vegeta scolded himself for wasting his strength as he fell back to catch his breath, but he had made his point.

Trunks stood up and checked the oxygen monitor. He was furious, but he also felt bad for thinking that Vegeta wouldn't be disappointed because he drugged him. He couldn't recall a time ever when his father physically harmed him out of spite - not even when he was spanked as a boy, which was rare.

Several minutes went by before Vegeta was focused enough to respond. His breathing was ragged, but he couldn't let this pass.

"Well played, son. The shot in… in my back was a nice touch. I taught you well. Now get... me...  _the hell_  out of here."

"You know we can't do that," Trunks said sharply. "You needed to be stabilized, and right now you should stop talking. There's no excuse for what you just did."  
  
Vegeta shook his head. "I do not… want to be here, Trunks. I want.. to be… at home with you, your mother, Bulla. Please."  
  
Trunks gave him a puzzled look. "Wait. What? Bulla's coming back now? It will take her two months to get here. Mom was supposed to contact her earlier today about you."

"Your sister will be… here soon," Vegeta said. "I asked... her adviser several months ago to grant her... a leave of absence. He realized the situation was serious without needing to know more. He knows I would rather… rather have your sister focused on her studies."   
_  
_ A nurse suddenly rushed past Trunks to shut off the beeping monitors near Vegeta's bed. He gave them both a disapproving look.

"Is everything OK here, sir? Are you in pain? I'm going to increase your oxygen. Young man, I think it may be time for you to leave."

Vegeta frowned and held up his hand. "No. I am breathing better. Leave us.  _My_   _son..._  and I… are not finished."

Trunks said nothing as the nurse departed. For a moment, he considered following him. He felt drained.

 **"** Her adviser insisted that she take a break and come home," Vegeta said. "I… later told her she… should surprise your mother. We have not spoken since then, at my suggestion, so she could complete her work."

Trunks put his head in his hands. "This is insane. Just how long have you been sick? How were you still training every day?"  
  
"I was not. My physical… symptoms… began long before Bulma noticed anything. As you know, it takes… a lot to exhaust a well-trained Saiyan, but I had to stop… much of it once I lost my balance."

Trunks walked toward the door. He could only imagine how poorly his sister would take the news. Worse, Milo must have known all along.  
_  
_ "And you're upset with us for trying to help you? I mean, we're your family. I think I should leave now. I'm sorry."

Vegeta nodded. "Do what… what you think is best, son. I was wrong to have grabbed you. Come back when... you're ready."

"Get some rest, papa."

The nurse repeated himself - this time much louder - after Trunks walked out. "Are you  _in pain_ , sir?"

Vegeta had enough of being treated like a child. He wanted to yell, but the pain in his chest felt awful. "Yes, you fool! And if you… do not find Atkins now, I will use… use my remaining strength  _to burn_   _this place_  to ashes."

Ignoring the threat, the nurse injected morphine into the central line and wiped Vegeta's forehead. He felt for man. They both knew he couldn't fight anyone, and Vegeta was in for much worse as the new drugs continued to take effect.

"I increased the morphine to help with your breathing and pain, sir," the nurse said. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Yes, yes," Vegeta said. "I am not yet as feeble… as everyone believes. I suppose you expect me to thank you."

"And you should thank him," Milo said from the doorway. "Your nurse's name is Tom, and he paged me after the monitors went off. I understand that you're angry, but let's talk later. You owe me that, and we both need our rest."

"Doctor, consider upping the morphine again before you proceed," Tom said. "I don't want to see you roasted alive by our patient."

"You're not helping your case, nurse," Milo said with a sly grin, "but thank you."


	3. A Friend's Burden

Trunks hadn't planned to drink any more that night, but the shock from his father's latest revelation gave him a convenient excuse to binge. He decided to sleep in the cabin and face Bulma in the morning.

He didn't know Son Goku would be waiting for him.

Goku had returned from New Namek with his sons Gohan and Goten earlier that evening feeling agitated. His wife Chi-Chi was waiting up for them, which she rarely did, even when they had been away for long periods. Her somber look jolted him out of his restlessness.

"It's Vegeta," she said. "You need to see him."

Goku sat with his head in his hands as she delivered the news. He needed to find Trunks first. His sons insisted on coming with him, but he wanted to be alone.

"I know where he'll be," he told them. "I believe Vegeta would want me there."

Trunks had been acting strangely long before Goku and his sons left on their yearlong trip. Being who he was, Vegeta said nothing about it, but Goku sensed his distress. He felt it was his duty to say something because he cared for Trunks like one of own sons.

Vegeta knew it was a matter of time before Goku approached him. As much as they had looked out for each other's families over the years, he wanted him to back off this time.

"Of course I know my son is troubled, Kakarot, and as much as I want to, I cannot help him until he is open to it. He has made it clear by his actions that he does not want me involved. I check on him when I can, but he does not know - and you will say nothing about it, especially not to his mother."

At the time, Goku thought Bulma didn't seem worried about the interaction between "her boys," as she called them. Perhaps she was, but Vegeta and Trunks were protecting her from the worst of their difficulties, apparently. Goku considered talking with her too, but he hesitated. It bothered him that no one was treating her like the incredibly tough woman she was, but he wanted to trust that Vegeta would eventually involve her. He didn't want to come between them.  
  
Vegeta didn't tell Goku about the occasions he found Trunks so drunk that his son didn't know who he was. As his drinking increased, Trunks stopped remembering how he got back to his apartment, but it didn't matter to him. He expected his personal assistant to keep tabs on his whereabouts to get him home - and he certainly paid her enough to keep her mouth shut - but she didn't and instead contacted Vegeta when she became worried.

Vegeta patiently cleaned Trunks up each time he brought him home, often staying by his bed all night. The hard part was leaving before his son woke up. The hardest part was not telling his wife what he was going through and eventually deciding there was only so much he could do. He wanted to bring the entire family together. He didn't know how much time he had left, and he wanted to be present for Bulma as much as possible.

* * *

 

Goku lit two oil lamps after he arrived at the cabin and sat on the porch. The place still looked the same. Its simplicity reminded him of his childhood home on Mount Paozu. He understood why Trunks and Vegeta liked coming there.

"Get the fuck off my property!"

Goku had heard Trunks staggering through the bushes shortly before the cursing started. It wasn't the greeting he expected, and it unnerved him that Trunks didn't recognize him.

" _Trunks_ , it's me, Son Goku. What's going on?"

Trunks stumbled forward and squinted. "What does it look like? I just had a  _great_  time."

Goku caught him as he passed out.

* * *

Trunks knew the morning daylight would do its best to aggravate his hangover, but the smell of food inside the cabin was brutal. He rolled over and vomited for what seemed like an eternity into a trash can near his bed.

Goku handed him a glass of water and a damp cloth. "Here, son, take these. I don't mind if you keep your eyes closed."

Trunks draped his arm over his face and groaned. His head felt like it would explode.

"When did you get here, Goku? Vegeta… isn't doing well."

"Yes, I know. Neither are you. Does Bulma know you're here?"

"I'm sure she does, but I haven't seen her since late yesterday. I sat with papa at the hospital last night after she left."

Goku poured another glass of water and handed it to him. "Well, you can't return there until you pull yourself together, so I'll think of something to tell your mother."

As gentle as it was, Goku's voice buzzed in Trunks' ears like a jackhammer. He wanted him to leave. It was embarrassing enough that he had thrown up in front of him. He cringed thinking about what he might have said the night before.

"I'll be fine, Goku. Just let me sleep it off a little longer."

"Trunks, you had  _a blackout_. How long has this been going on? I had no idea you were drinking like this. Does Vegeta know?"

 _What a stupid question that was,_  Goku thought. _He knew all along. Stubborn jackass. Why did he keep this to himself?_  
  
Irritated, Trunks sat up and stared at him. "Papa doesn't know. Trust me. Even if he did, I'm sure he would expect me to deal with it by myself - and he would be right, frankly. I should work it out on my own, so please spare me the lecture."

"I didn't come here to lecture you." Goku turned abruptly and met his gaze. "You're good at beating yourself up  _without_  my help. You should give your father more credit, though. From what I know, you didn't give him a chance to be there for you."

Trunks thought about Vegeta's apology.  _Papa didn't tell me he was sick because he didn't want to guilt me into coming home. He thought he failed when I shut him out, but how could he believe I wouldn't want to be near him with something so serious?_

"Goku, I have no idea what I said to you last night, but I'm sorry if I made a fool out of myself."

"Thank you, son. If I can handle your father's faults, I can certainly deal with yours. I'm going to find Bulma now. Rest up."

* * *

 

Bulma sat alone in her kitchen looking at photos. Most of them were of her friends and children because Vegeta avoided taking many pictures.

He said: "Seeing myself in the mirror each day confirms my existence, and god knows that's more than enough."

Some of the couple's most intimate moments came spontaneously. One day, a family hiking trip almost ended disastrously when Bulma fell while picking wildflowers. Without cracking a smile, Vegeta ended their argument over his "failure" to warn everyone about the rocky trail by placing a flower in her hair. Then he shoved another one between his teeth like a deranged matador. He knew he looked utterly ridiculous. After that, Bulma allowed him to wrap her sprained ankle in silence, which was all he wanted. Before they knew it, their daughter had taken a picture.

He told Bulma in bed that night he would've picked flowers daily had he known about their "magical ability" to shut her up. Before she could protest, he put his fingers over her lips.

"You are my world," he whispered. "Never, ever forget that."

Bulma placed the photo face down on the table.  _Snap out this, girlfriend_.  _You need to focus_.

As she stood up, her coffee mug flew out of her hands. Then the table and chair overturned. She barely managed to break her fall before a giant hand seized her arm.

"Damn it, Goku!" she hollered. "Can't you ever use a door? You don't need to do that instant teleport thing  _all_  of the time."

Goku scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry I made a mess. I was just trying to get here quickly."

"Yeah, I can see that." Bulma grabbed his wrist and hugged him. "So what took you so long, you big ox?"

"I guess I deserve that one, but would you lay off the name-calling, Bulma? I'm still a sensitive guy."

"All right, Mister Sensitive. How about helping me pick up these photos?"

Bulma looked like she hadn't slept in ages. Goku knew his encounter with Trunks was the last thing she needed to hear, but she would have to learn about his drinking eventually. He was disappointed that Vegeta hadn't told her.  
**  
** "Trunks will meet us at the hospital later," he said.

Bulma gave him a strange look. "So you saw him already? He's been sleeping in the cabin since he's been here. I had expected to hear from him by now."

"I just felt like I needed to check on him after Chi-Chi told me what happened. I told him to rest some more. He needs it. He saw Vegeta last night after you left."

Bulma handed him a box to collect the pictures. She was curious about why Goku wanted to see Trunks before visiting Vegeta, but she didn't question it. He usually had good reasons for the things he did, even if no one else understood at first.

"Trunks has been so distant since his father went in the hospital," she said. "They've had their differences, but…"

"Just give him time, Bulma. Right now I want you to tell me how you're really feeling."

The question almost sounded absurd. Her emotions were all over the place. She and Chi-Chi knew that their husbands, having been fighters all of their lives, at any moment could be taken from them. And there was no assurance they would see each other after they died. It was part of the deal, and they accepted it. But this time was different, she felt.

"It's just not supposed to be like this, Goku. It's just not. I'm sorry, but I have sacrificed  _enough_. We've lived in peaceful times for so long. I finally believed Vegeta and I would grow old together, happily. He said he wanted that too."

"I'm sure he meant that, Bulma. I'm so sorry - though I must say, now that you've reached this age, I always figured you'd kick the bucket before he did."   
  
Bulma stared at him in disbelief. " _Are you kidding me_?!"

"What did I say?" Goku stepped backward and smiled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

They hugged each other and laughed. It was just like old times. He knew her well. It was time for her to stop repressing the pain.

Then her legs collapsed.

Goku pulled her closer as she wept. "I've got you. You're going to be fine. Let's go to the other room. When's the last time you ate?"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about me."

"Too late. Lie down on the sofa. I'll get some food."

When he returned, Goku refused to let her speak until she finished eating. He knew Vegeta would be more upset if she got sick.

"The doctor's team is trying to reverse the course of his illness as quickly as possible," she said. "I'm just so  _angry_  with him, and I'm angry with myself for not pushing him harder. He's been in denial about how bad things really are."

Goku couldn't imagine the Prince being in denial about anything at this point in his life. It seemed like Bulma was the one in denial.  
  
"I'll talk with him, but I can't guarantee he'll tell me what's on his mind now beyond what you know already." Goku crossed his arms and leaned back. "I mean, Chi-Chi and I aren't even as close as you two are."

"Don't be so sure about that, Goku. Although neither of you will admit it, you are brothers now."  
**  
** "I have no problem admitting it, Bulma. We are brothers in many ways as Saiyans, but Vegeta's burdens are uniquely his. He's never wanted anyone else to carry them, especially not me, and you know that. Don't expect this situation to be any different."


	4. Vegeta's Acceptance

Deep down Vegeta knew his frustration over Trunks and Bulma's actions was misdirected. His ego was pricked, of course, but their dishonesty wasn't so different from his. Trunks was right to call him out on his bullshit. He had been selfish for trying to control how they felt.

But he felt sorrier for enabling Trunks' drinking as long as he did. He blamed himself for causing it and for not finding a way to solve the problem without possibly driving his son farther from the family. How could he tell his mother that?

_Our boy is better now, Bulma. He is struggling, but he is with us._

He felt lonely after waking up without her next to him. The medical monitors surrounding his bed reminded him of his vulnerability. He was grateful, though, that his caregivers were keeping him comfortable without overly drugging him. Milo, in particular, understood how much he treasured being able to sense the presence of others.

He had fallen back to sleep by the time Bulma and Goku arrived. She entered scanning every inch of the room for defects. Everything needed to be in place. Was the temperature right? Were there enough blankets? Had his oxygen been monitored properly?

Being a scientist and, above all, Vegeta's spouse taught Bulma the value of exercising discipline before surrendering to raw feeling in hard times. It hadn't always been that way for them, and neither were perfect at it.

"He's waking up a bit now," she said, motioning for Goku to approach. "Can you hear me, honey? You're looking much better today. I brought someone with me."

Vegeta sluggishly peered over her shoulder. The upturned eyebrow and smug half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth were unmistakable. Goku knew  _that_  look well.

"So you… managed… to get here, Kakarot. Impressive."

"Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood," Goku said. "Thought it would be good to see you. I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

" _Hn._ " Vegeta clamped his hand on the bed rail. "When are you… ever  _unsure_  about anything?"

This was their way. All greetings began with a challenge. Vegeta had insisted on calling Goku by his ancestral name ever sense they met, and Goku had long been hesitant to make it his own. He was raised on Earth, and his name was given to him out of love and care. It hurt him profoundly to learn of the evil path many from their race had taken. But so much of who he was came from them. Indeed, he was Kakarot as much as he was Son Goku.

Vegeta's determination for Goku to accept their Saiyan heritage meant something different now. The two had cheated death together repeatedly, and while neither feared dying, this twist of fate almost seemed unfair. Goku believed they still had more to accomplish in this life - more battles to win.

"I can come back if you're not up to it, Vegeta."

"No, Kakarot. Stay." Vegeta looked up at Bulma and interlaced his fingers with hers. "Give us… some time alone."

Bulma didn't expect to be dismissed so quickly. She almost regretted bringing Goku there before she and Vegeta discussed - or argued about - how he got to the hospital.

"Uh, sure." She paused and turned to Goku. "He's more stable now, so you two take your time - but you should pace yourself, Vegeta. I'll go find Dr. Atkins. Trunks should be in later."

Vegeta knew Bulma was wondering if he was upset with her. They were partners in every sense of the word, but his talented, beautiful, headstrong wife just couldn't fix this. He wanted her to understand that he wasn't giving up  _on her_.

"I am fine, woman," he replied, pinching her thigh. "Go. I will… will… deal with you soon enough."

"You are not fine, and get your mind off sex," she said, stroking his cheek. "We have more important things to think about right now."

Bulma winked at Goku on her way out. "It's your turn now, buddy. Good luck."

* * *

Goku observed how the pulses from the oxygen machine followed Vegeta's exhalations - until a wad of tissues hit the back of his head.

"Are you... going… to examine that thing all day?" Vegeta said. "I think you know what it does for me."

"I'm done looking at it," Goku said. "You didn't have to throw stuff at me. I was just thinking it might be easier for us to speak telepathically."

Vegeta nodded and closed his eyes to gather strength. Both men grew still.

_"Yes, talking this way is better. I want to go home, Kakarot. I have accepted being here for now because all of my family are not here yet, but…"_

_"Vegeta, I just have to tell you that I've never known you to completely walk away from a fight. Milo is working hard to treat you here."_

_"Oh for fuck's sake, man. You can be such a guileless idiot_."

Moments like this often reminded Goku why Bulma and Vegeta were perfectly matched: Both were masterful at insults. He didn't want to invite more of them by asking what "guileless" meant.

_"Whoa, I'm here to help_ ," he said. " _I'm happy you have some spirit left. Maybe you can try to eat while I'm around_."  
_  
_ Vegeta slammed his fists on the bed. " _Stop it! I am tired of people telling me what I need right now. Can you just listen?"_  
_  
"All right then,"_ Goku said. " _I meant no disrespect. You have my full attention."_  
  
"Kakarot, Frieza's scientists experimented on me when I was young man. It was a requirement to assume higher military rank. I had endured much worse under his rule, so I did what I had to do. I have no doubts that what they did caused this illness. Milo has been helping me for two years now. We found out that the first experimental treatment I was on stopped working, but not before it damaged my nervous system. Milo has vowed to keep trying, but I had to face the reality that I may not get better."

Goku drew in a long breath. " _Why have you waited so long to tell anyone, especially Bulma and the kids?"_

Vegeta'a eyes blankly stared past him, betraying his increasing weariness. _"Bulma would have wearied herself opposing my wishes. How do you think I ended up here in the first place? Instead, we spent this year doing whatever she wanted - and she has been happy **,**  at least until my body started to give out on me. What I need is to repair my relationship with Trunks. He is furious with me for keeping my condition secret, among other reasons." **  
**_  
_"But he loves you_ ," Goku said. " _Yeah, he's an adult, but he still needs you now. So does Bulla."_

_"And I want him to be strong, Kakarot. My son is revisiting my relationship with him before Bulma and I married. I have spent every day since you and I fought Majin Buu trying to make up for the pain I caused everyone - and to rebuild myself. He doubts the love and respect I have for him. He may not be a driven fighter like us, but he is a far better man than I was at his age... or will ever be. I told him that before I was brought here."_

_"But?"_

Vegeta ran his palm across the edges of his face. " _But I should have said it much earlier. He started drinking heavily. When I found out, I did not know what to do. Showing anger would have made the situation worse."_

_"You didn't have to be alone with this, Vegeta."_

_"It was my job to keep my son from harming himself, or anyone else, when he was unaware of his behavior. I could not tell Bulma or Bulla because I did not want to humiliate him. But I had to pull back. When I learned he was trying to recover, with Piccolo's help, I trusted he would return to us, and he has."_

Goku's head jerked back in surprise. _"He went to Piccolo?"_

_"Yes. I had to put my desires aside. My son needed help, and I was trying to stay well for as long as I could. Piccolo told me what they were doing together."_

Goku thought about his own sons and their struggles. Some things he could never share with Chi-Chi since she often found reasons to blame him, but he rejected being hurt over it. He took responsibility for his decisions, and she had a right to some of her resentment.

_"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Trunks is drinking again_.  _I saw him last night, and he wasn't in great shape."_ **  
**  
Vegeta's eyes darkened as a dull ache crawled across his chest and up his spine. " _Do not apologize for telling me the truth about my son."_

Goku placed his hands on the bed rail as Vegeta began to cough over and over again. " _I should get the nurse._   _You're trying to suppress it, but your pain is getting worse. Let's end telepathy now. What I said upset you."_

_"No. The morphine will do its job. That machine near you is programmed for me to take some when I need it."_

_"Vegeta…"_

_"I said no."_

* * *

 Vegeta was having flashbacks from different stages in his life. This time, Goku would bear witness to them all.

_"Struggle has defined my life for so long, Kakarot. For all of my talk of pride, the truth is Saiyans were fools to believe that we weren't Frieza's slaves. So many of our people were corrupted, including my father. I worshipped him - yet he handed me, his first-born son, over to a sadistic tyrant. Everyone knew I was a prodigy, and once Frieza got what he wanted, he made sure I had no home, no family, and thus no 'kingdom' to which I could return._

_As you know, Nappa and your brother Raditz were my attendants. Frieza kept them alive after he destroyed our planet to ensure that I had enough Saiyan influence to be trained properly. But their souls were just as rotten as mine came to be, as they had lost everything important to them too. They were there, but I wasn't always protected. I suffered every kind of depraved, disgusting cruelty imaginable at the hands of Frieza's men._

_Perhaps Nappa thought this was best so I could reach my full fighting potential, but my hatred grew as I surpassed him in strength and resolve. That is why I… killed him the day we fought you all those years ago. When he begged for mercy after his injury, I remembered how I begged as a child. He was chief of the Saiyan Army! At times I thought it would have been more respectable if he killed us after the rest of our people died."_

Goku's eyes drifted downward. He didn't feel pity because Vegeta wasn't seeking it. It would have been wrong given the nature of his confession.

_"Kakarot, you and my brother Tarble were fortunate to have been sent away as children. All I had left was my rage for what happened to me and to our people. I desperately needed to prove my worthiness. I was still the Prince. It was my inheritance and my identity. I became Frieza's protégé, obediently doing whatever he desired, because I knew I would eventually destroy him - until you did. Hating and admiring you for that drove me more insane than I already was."_

_"And I still wonder about your sanity occasionally_ ," Goku said. " _I guess, then, that this is your way of apologizing for being a first-class asshole more times than either of us can count. But we needed each other, and we grew from it. After everything we've been through, I'm not ready to accept having one of my fiercest opponents disappear from my life again. It's not your time yet."_

Vegeta looked intently at him. " _Why do you grieve? I learned to love and value life on Earth because of you and my family. Who would have thought that I, of all men, would have such fortune? You know I was given far more chances than I deserved, and I have tried to make the most of them."_

_"You changed in ways that surprised many, Vegeta."_

_"I did, and my life can end right here, right now, because I have truly lived. But I cannot die in peace until those closest to me find their own. It is my time. There is no returning in this form. I want a good death, and I need you and everyone else who cares for me to accept it."_

Vegeta's chest heaved as he forced himself to speak out loud. "See, Kakarot? I can ask for... for something  _nicely_." Then, from his sickbed, the Prince bowed as low as he could to Goku for the first time in his life.

Choking back tears, Goku returned the gesture. "I knew that you could. You've said enough. Take your rest now."


	5. No More Secrets

Trunks decided to drink something to take the edge off - just enough to get him through the morning. After that he believed he could lay off the booze, at least for a while. He had done well without it for some time, but the anxiety gnawing on his insides wore him down. The more he considered what his father had shared about his own internal struggles, the more ashamed he felt. At least Vegeta had been man enough to wrestle with his demons head on, with some imperfections.

He wasn't ready to lose him. Father and son were finally at a point where they could share their experiences intimately - and equally - as grown men. He wished it wouldn't have taken an illness to bring them closer. He just wanted the hollowness he felt to vanish.

It broke his heart seeing Bulma sitting alone in Dr. Atkins' office. Normally, she would be pacing or talking to herself or writing something down. She always worked out her problems that way. He wasn't ready to discuss what Vegeta told him, but it needed to happen before she saw him again.

"Hi, baby."

"I brought you a decent cup of brew, mom. I can't understand how anyone here can drink the sewer water they call coffee. Can't they do better? I mean, you do a lot to support this hospital."

Bulma knew he was trying to make her smile, although it was obvious that he wasn't feeling all that great about it. As she stood to greet him, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She didn't recognize the person staring back.  _That_  woman looked haggard and defeated.

She started laughing to hide her embarrassment over her self-pitying mood. She could be good actress, but Vegeta almost always knew when she was hiding her true feelings. She hoped Trunks wasn't as perceptive.

"I appreciate your concern about my charity, darling, and thanks for the coffee. Goku said he saw you last night. Are you OK?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands together and looked away. "I just needed to be alone. Sorry for not coming to the house."

Bulma placed her cup on the end table. "You and your father do share some habits that I've grown accustomed to. Have you been to see him today?"

"Um, not yet. I thought we could go together."

Bulma's eyes lingered on Trunks' face. He had all of Vegeta's strongest features: arched eyebrows, straight-tipped nose, high cheekbones. He was a handful to raise as a child because he wanted so much to be like his father, but he never experienced the withering pain that shaped Vegeta's worldview. She hoped he never would, because she knew better than anyone the price her husband paid to be who he was.

"You know, Trunks, I apologize for not telling you and Bulla about him earlier. I figured Vegeta would give in and seek help in spite of himself. It's always been his habit."

"You've said that in different ways, mom. It's not your fault. The doctor isn't done with him yet either. I think papa is depressed over being this sick and needing this kind of help now. He was in the best shape of his life before it happened."

Bulma puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. "He was in good shape. We were having such a great time together, too. He even managed to get me to work less. I had never seen him so laid back."

Milo listened to them from outside. He wasn't sure how long could continue acting like he didn't know about Vegeta's true condition, but he too believed there was enough time to save him.

Trunks sat stone-faced when the doctor entered. The truth was out, and Milo didn't want to insult him with superficial small talk. They nodded and turned their attention to Bulma.

"So what can you tell us, Dr. Atkins?" she said.

"Bulma, a retrovirus has attacked Vegeta's immune system, and it looks like it's worked on him for a while. It's the reason why he developed the chronic bronchitis, which led to the bacterial infection causing his pneumonia. The damn thing is wrecking him."

"How could this happen?"

"I don't know how he got the virus, my dear. Right now I'm most concerned about preserving what's left of him. Our goal is to block the genetic pathway the virus uses. I think we have just enough time to turn things around. We must be vigilant about how well his oxygen therapy is working, especially. Putting Vegeta on a ventilator isn't the best thing, though, given the delicate nature of his condition.

"The treatment he's receiving now for the pneumonia alone, namely the antibiotics and steroids, should keep him stable for an adequate amount of time, Bulma. However, unless we find a way to stop the viral attack on his immune system, his lung function will continue to weaken. He'll be able to talk as his strength allows for now."

"Vegeta doesn't want any more treatment, Dr. Atkins," Goku said. "It won't work. Give him what he wants. Bring him home."

"Oh, hello there, my boy," Milo said anxiously. "How long have you been standing by the door?"

"Long enough. Don't you think it's time to be honest with them about what's going on here?"

Bulma flinched when Goku approached her. Here he was in his common clothes, with his common ways, speaking as if  _he_  had the final word. She felt silly for believing he could help. Vegeta was a master manipulator when he chose to be. Perhaps he had convinced Goku, somehow, that his precious "honor" was at stake.

She slapped his face so hard that Trunks was forced to pull her arms behind her back.

"And just how do  _you_  know it won't work?!" she shouted. " _You_  aren't a scientist! What did Vegeta say?"

Goku stood motionless for several minutes before speaking again.

"It's all right, Trunks. Let her go. She needs to release her anger - but that's the last time you strike me  _like that_  in front of  _anyone_ ever, Bulma. Understand?"

Bulma threw up her hands and turned her back on them.

"I trust Vegeta's judgment," he continued. "Even science has its limits. And if you think about it, which I know you have, his actions this past year weren't random. He is dying, honey. Don't make him suffer by delaying it unnaturally. He doesn't want you to go through that because he loves you, and he knows you'll regret it later."  
  
"That's enough," Trunks said.

"No, it's  _not_  enough. I know your father differently, son. I can't begin to describe how hard it was for everyone when he first decided to stay on Earth. Yet Bulma and your grandparents still opened their home to him in good faith. He wants to die there, with us near him, because that's where he learned what was most important to him.

"Trunks, he wants you to face your troubles with dignity, as he eventually did, to find your own truth. Within darkness there is light. It took Vegeta almost half of his life to discover that. He knows how bad your drinking has been, and he's grieved a lot over it."

"Goku, how could you… in front of my mother? I thought you wouldn't say anything!"

"I never told you that, son. Personally, I have had enough of everyone keeping secrets, your father included."

"I don't understand," Bulma said. "What's this about drinking?"

Goku looked over at the door. "You all need some time to talk. Dr. Atkins, come grab some food with me."

"I don't think there's enough food on storage in the hospital this week to satisfy your appetite," Milo said.

Bulma stepped in front of Goku and placed her finger on his chest. "You can't just  _leave_  now. Not after this."

Earlier, Goku sensed a familiar  _ki_  before entering Milo's office. When he arrived, the look on Trunks' face confirmed everything- the young man had felt it too - but Goku wanted to have his say first.

"I think it's better if I leave now," he said. "Bulma, we all want more time with Vegeta, but he needs assurance that the family will remain together. He didn't grow up like us - but whatever decision you make, I will be here for you."

Bulma soon realized that everyone was staring in her direction, when a tall, slender silhouette appeared behind her.

"Goku is right," a woman said quietly. "Let him go."

Looking very much like Vegeta in her body suit, Bulla reached out to embrace her mother and brother.


	6. The Briefs

Bulla had always been her father's child. Tough and wise beyond her years, she adored Vegeta as much as he cherished her. She didn't see him through rose-colored glasses either. She knew enough about the kind of person he had been, but she didn't resent him for not being completely open about his past. She thought her brother had been unfair because he felt entitled to know everything. Maybe their parents had planned to say more but knew she and Trunks weren't ready. There would be a time and a place for that discussion, she felt, and it would probably be upsetting, but it wasn't her first priority.

Still, she dearly loved and admired her brother. Despite their age difference, she considered him her best friend. Like most siblings, they competed when they were younger for their father's attention, but she never doubted that Vegeta loved them equally. She only wished Trunks felt the same. He had been more withdrawn before she left Earth, but he had always been prone to moodiness. She assumed he was sad about her leaving or irritated over some work project. Bulma told her later that he and Vegeta weren't talking. Then Trunks stopped coming home, which hurt their mother, although they made time to see each other when they could.

When she first arrived at the hospital, the nurse said Vegeta was fatigued after seeing Goku and not holding food down well. She had sensed his weakness for a while. Her father's larger-than-life personality had always embodied immense power. Seeing him told her everything she needed to know. She realized this moment would come one day but hoped it wouldn't be so soon for her.

She unfastened the bed rail to lie next to him. It took all the strength she had not to cry after he started stroking her hair.

"I see now why you wanted me here, papa. I can't do this."

Vegeta raised a finger to his lips and gave her a stern look. He was too tired to speak, so he communicated with her mentally.

_"This is not the time for that, Bulla. Not yet. Find your mother and brother. They need you. I am not going anywhere."_

She cried silently outside of Milo's office as Goku appealed to her family on Vegeta's behalf. As painful as it felt, she had to support him and help to calm her mother's rage.

Goku didn't look back as he and Milo left the room. "I apologize for upsetting you, Bulma, but I had to tell the truth."

She didn't respond.

"Bye, Goku," Bulla said. "Thank you."

Goku raised his hand in the air.

* * *

The Briefs stood in a circle with their arms draped around each other. The ritual began after the deaths of Bulma's parents and continued when other loved ones died. After they sat down, Bulma used her thumbs to wipe her children's tears the same way she did when they were little. All of them giggled.

"Vegeta would probably tease us mercilessly about how we look," she said. "Bulla, why didn't you say you were coming so soon?"

"Papa suggested that I surprise you after I was asked to take a leave of absence, mom. It was strange because he was so insistent about it, but he said it would be good for you."

"I think it's time you both knew that he's been sick for much, much longer," Trunks said. "We argued about it. Dr. Atkins knows everything too."

Bulma's hand tightened around his wrist. "So you started drinking last night. Is that why you arrived late?"

"Yes. Goku stayed with me after I had a blackout."

"A blackout?" Bulma felt nauseated. "Just how long has this been happening? Darling, I am so sorry."

Ashamed, Trunks released his mother's hands. "Sorry for what? You didn't cause it, and this is the worst time for you to find out."

"As if there would ever be a good time, Trunks. How could I have missed this?  _I've seen you_."

"I thought I could control it, mom. I never stopped going to work. I spent time with you. I tried to be normal, but papa knew something was wrong and confronted me. I said I didn't need his help. I'm not sure when he found out about the rest."

Bulma's mind felt clouded as his voice faded into the background. Then she became afraid. Losing her husband  _and_  her son was unacceptable.

"You're very quiet," Bulla said. She raised her voice when Bulma didn't respond. " _Mother_ , what are you thinking?"

Bulma stood up and wandered around the room. "Vegeta didn't want me to worry.  _Damn him._  I am so tired of this."

Trunks wished Goku hadn't said anything. His mother was reaching her mental breaking point, he thought.

"Please don't be too angry with him," he said softly.

Bulma pointed her finger at him. "You are my son too, Trunks. We will  _all_  make it through this, you hear me? At the moment I need to speak with Dr. Atkins, and I should apologize to Goku for how I treated him. Go see your father. I'll meet you and your sister there later."

"Mom, come sit down again," Bulla said. "Maybe you shouldn't see him while you're feeling this way."

"What you're seeing now is as good as it gets," Bulma said as she waved them out the door. "Now do what I've asked."

She took one final look at the office and turned off the lights.

* * *

 

Trunks turned to leave after he felt that Bulla would be fine seeing Vegeta alone. He was already near the hospital entrance by the time she caught up with him. She tried not to disturb other patients and was annoyed with him for putting her in that position.

"Where are you going, Trunks?"

"Outside. You should have some time with papa."

"Bullshit. Don't lie to me. You're going to drink."

"So what? You heard what Goku said. I need to 'find my own truth,' and don't curse at me like that."

"You're not the only one hurting here, big brother."

 _This_  angered him.

"Oh my, aren't you observant? You've learned a lot since you've been away, princess. What do you expect me to say, Bulla?

"Say you love me and will help me bear with losing our father because I'm only 18 - and besides you and mom, he's my rock."

"Well, you're an adult now."

Bulla lowered her voice and coldly stared in his eyes. "Yeah, well, you've been one longer, asshole. Try to be a good example and act like it again."

Her aggravating persistence forced Trunks to grin. She had so much fire and drive inside of her. She was destined for greatness, although she hadn't realized it yet. But he knew.

"Baby girl, you have the worst of our parents' qualities. You know that, right?"

Bulla's face turned bright pink. "You're one to talk!"

Trunks put his arm around her as she playfully punched his shoulder. Then they stuck out their tongues at each other like grumpy children. That's how they ended arguments. When they were younger, that alternative worked better than facing Vegeta's punishment for allowing conflicts to come between them.

The two sat on a sidewalk behind the hospital to watch the sunset. They usually had their best conversations at dusk. Bulla rested her head on Trunks' shoulder as bands of red, gold, and orange radiated in front of them.

"You look great," he said. "I missed you. I'm sorry you returned to such chaos. Has your mission gone well?"

"Yes, for the most part. It's been challenging to adapt to the culture there, but let's discuss that later. So what gives? I can almost understand why you didn't tell our folks about the drinking, but why not me?"

Trunks closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. "Like you said, you're 18. Your adult life is just beginning. The last thing I wanted was having you nursemaid me, and I'm sure papa felt the same way when he learned he was ill - but what he did was more wrong."

" _God_ , Trunks! You two are so much alike. What gives you the right to decide  _when_  and  _how_  I choose to care about you? That goes for mom too. Valuable time that the four of us could've spent together is gone - gone! I don't want to hear another word from  _any_  of you about being self-centered."

"Sis, I had hoped that you wouldn't go through this so early. I had when I was a boy, wondering how soon it would be before we lost him completely. I'll never forget seeing him so bloodied and hurt as he fought Majin Buu. It was one of the worst days of my life. I wanted to fight to next him - I had enough strength, I thought - but he wouldn't let me.

"I was so afraid for him, Bulla. That fear never went away, really, and I always felt that it somehow made me a weaker person than him. And it's frustrating how he and mom don't discuss how all of it happened or everything he did before they met. You and I know he's done some things that weren't right."

"Is it that important to know now?" she said. "You could ask them about it, but shouldn't it be enough that papa tried hard to be there for you and me afterward? It's not enough for you to be proud that he fought for everyone when the time came? How much proof of his devotion do you need?

"You may feel differently, but while he was hard on us sometimes, he's never asked us for much other than to live honorably and to surpass him. He might recover, but if he doesn't I'm using my time telling him how much he's loved. When I saw him, the first thing he wanted was for me to find you and mom."

"And it's time for us to see him now," Bulma said, placing her hands on their shoulders. "It's getting late, and all of us need to talk."


	7. Spoken and Unspoken

Bulma, Trunks, and Bulla spoke at length about what they planned to do before heading to Vegeta's room. They were blunt with each other about their feelings, but now they were a team.

Tom, the charge nurse, stopped them on their way.

"I don't think Vegeta needs much more activity tonight, Bulma. The drugs' side effects have made him feel quite sick since you were here earlier today, and he's still coughing too much for my comfort. I tried to help him with that. You can go in, but try not to get him worked up. It's not like he's the chattiest person, but I know he'll want to see you for a spell."

"Will do," Bulma said. "We'll see if he listens to me, which I doubt. Thanks for looking out for him, Tom."

"Go ahead, mom," Trunks said. "Bulla and I can see him first thing in the morning so you can sleep in."

Bulma took a deep breath and hugged them. "OK, guys. Don't eat all the ice cream at home, especially the butter pecan. I'll really need some when I return."

A faint grin appeared on Vegeta's face as he heard her heels clicking across the floor. The sound reminded him of how much he enjoyed removing her shoes before they made love. Sometimes he would deliberately piss her off by throwing her favorite ones out of the bedroom window after taking off her clothes. She rarely failed to look her best, but even when she didn't he found her irresistible. Besides her boldness, he thought her intellect was her most attractive attribute. He couldn't remember if he ever said it. She had to know he felt that way.

Bulma dimmed the lights in the room and sat next to his bed. She was starting to hate the place. He recognized a trace of disgust in her expression, even as she tried to look relaxed.

"How are you, handsome?"

He scowled at her.

"That good, huh? Let me guess. If you were feeling better you would ask me if my brain switched places with Goku's."

Vegeta gave her a wry look. "True."

The couple held hands in silence until they started to doze. It was close to 10 p.m. Her head lay on the pillow beside him, while his arm enveloped her. Knowing she had more to say, Vegeta nudged her before the urge to sleep conquered them both.

"They told me all of it, including how you dealt with Trunks' drinking problem," Bulma said. "I'm beyond angry that you kept this to yourself, but I'll get over it. I guess I should also apologize for having our son do my 'dirty work' before you came here."

He looked down at her.  _Trunks told her exactly what I said. God. I wouldn't put it past her to drug him too._  
  
"Vegeta, did you plan to tell us about your condition that day at home, and were you eventually going to tell me about Trunks?"

"Yes."

Bulma ran her fingers along the edge of his blanket. "Ah, what a complete shit show this is. So the kids and I talked, and we'll bring you home. I have a couple of options that I'd like you to consider, though. No ultimatums. You get the final word."

"Fine."

"First, I'd like you to stay on the antibiotics to treat the pneumonia. Dr. Atkins says they're helping, which will give us more time to spend with you. We'll continue your oxygen therapy to help you manage your progressive lung disease - your chronic bronchitis. We'll work hard to keep you comfortable and pain-free, and we'll forego any steps to extend your life as the condition runs its course. The way your lungs look now, with no further treatment to slow down their decline, we may have up to a month."

"Before I die."

"Yes, honey... before you die. Second, you have the option of letting the doctor try another treatment to boost your immune system. We can do all of this from home. It would take a few weeks to see how well it works as long as we can keep you stable. If there's no improvement, then we'll stick to the original plan. What do you say, one or two?"

"One."

Bulma sighed and placed her forehead against his. "All right, let's do this. I won't stand in your way anymore."

As she kissed him, Vegeta slid his arm under her skirt and snapped her panties. The shock caused her to drop her purse on the floor, spilling its contents.

" _That's_  your way of thanking me, you sneaky bastard? I'm glad the kids aren't here. 'I love you' would've been enough. I haven't heard it in like 10 years, you know."

"It… has... been  _five_   _years_ , Bulma. And I love you."

After a few days at home, Vegeta said he wanted to visit the cabin. He could barely walk 10 steps without becoming short of breath, yet he asked Trunks and Bulla to take him there anyway. He also reminded Bulma of her promise at the hospital that she wouldn't challenge his wishes. He wanted to be alone with their children in a setting that often brought them comfort. Neither sibling cried in his presence because they recognized his gift to them. Their gift was reassuring him that nothing would come between them and that they were prepared to let him go.

His consciousness began to fade as the weeks progressed. Bulma worried at first that his bouts of delirium would lead to re-enactments of battles, nightmares, or other less-than-savory activities, but they never did. Goku reassured her that those memories and attachments didn't control Vegeta anymore. Sometimes the Prince stared at the wall as if he witnessed something far lovelier than anything he had ever seen before. It comforted Goku that his friend was able to experience that kind of peace despite the likelihood that his soul would be still erased after his death.

* * *

Tarble wiped Vegeta's mouth with a cloth. His brother's skin felt cold to the touch. He thought for a time that that the Prince sensed his presence, but he stopped himself from hoping for more.

Goku, who saw him adjusting Vegeta's position on the bed, decided to enter the room.

"How is he? May I help you in some way?"

"No, Goku. I am fine. I wanted to be alone with my brother. This is the least I can do for him. Please, step out with me."

"Sure."

Tarble led him down the corridor to a nearby sitting room.

"I apologize for my abrupt response," he said. "I am not sure how much Vegeta can hear us, so that is why I wanted to leave. I am doing what I can to keep him at ease. It will not be long now. His breathing has slowed considerably. He tried to speak when Bulma and Trunks were here earlier but did not open his eyes. He does not appear to be in any pain, though. Bulma made sure of that."

Tarble's modesty moved Goku. The brothers' personalities almost seemed like night and day, but they shared some similarities.

"I can stay with Vegeta if you need to see your wife," Goku said. "She's with my wife and Bulma now."

Tarble walked around the room looking at pictures on the wall. He respected how much strength it must have taken for Bulma to stay with his brother: forgiving his sins, understanding his drive to fight, enduring his arrogance, comforting him.

"Do you know Vegeta asked me to move here?"

"Yes, I do," Goku said.

"He said it was important for us to be near his family - and yours too, I suspect - because we are the last of the Saiyans. I knew something was wrong, but I did not ask him because I believed he had his reasons for not sharing. Perhaps we are more alike in that respect."

"Have you decided to stay on Earth?"

"Gure and I do not have much holding us on our planet, and Vegeta would not ask me for anything unless he meant it, so this is our home now. I only wish we had arrived earlier.

"You and your friends grew close to him in ways that I could not after we were separated. Of course, given Vegeta's personal history - and his testiness - I am rather grateful that you all did the hard work and not me."

Goku patted him on the back and chuckled. "You share your brother's dry humor."

"I hope you consider that a respectable quality, Son Goku."

"I certainly do."

"I wonder how life would have been if my brother and I were raised together on our home planet. Would we have been rivals?"

Goku rubbed the back of his head. "Tarble, I would like to think that you wouldn't have, but knowing Vegeta probably so. My relationship with him here has been one hell of a fight. Actually, make it three hells."

"Goku, I shudder when I think about his time with Frieza. Surviving that experience strengthened him, but it also fractured him so much. I am thankful that he will get his 'good death.' Bulla said he told you he wanted that."

The Saiyans looked at each other and faced the hallway.

"The rest of the family is with him now," Goku said.


	8. The Coming Dawn

From the beginning  
I knew meeting could only  
End in parting, yet  
I ignored the coming dawn  
And I gave myself to you.

\- Fujiwara No Teika

* * *

Prince Vegeta's body lay on a simple wooden pallet on the floor. Bulma sat nearby on her knees observing the silk gauze sheet covering the outline of his physique. She wore an elegant black mourning robe Chi-Chi started making for her the day Vegeta returned home from the hospital weeks before.

"Come, sister," Gure said. "We must prepare him for burial. There are rituals when a Saiyan dies a natural death."

The gentle voice helped Bulma slowly recover her awareness. Her mind had been motionless since her beloved husband took his last breath that morning. After days of being unresponsive, he stunned her earlier that week when he regained consciousness and promptly commanded everyone's attention. He also insisted on speaking instead of conversing non verbally. His stubbornness almost convinced her that he would recover, although his appearance made it clear that he wouldn't.

" _Woman_?"

"Yes, Vegeta?"

"You are not… caring… for yourself in the way I told you to."

Faking irritation, Bulma wrinkled her nose at him. "Really? You're giving me orders right now?"

"Why… would I not? You are my wife."

Trunks and Bulla glanced at each other to stop from breaking into laughter. They found it far too tempting to tease their parents about their quarreling. More than anything, they valued the normalcy of it.

"OK, handsome," Bulma said tenderly. "Although I hate to let you win, you are correct this time. I will keep my promise to you."

Vegeta shook his head. "You did not…  _let_   _me_  win, Bulma. I was right."

Their children had already braced themselves for some scorched-earth piece of advice, or a cleverly worded threat, from Vegeta as his eyes drifted in their direction.

"Yes, papa?" Bulla said.

"The same… goes… for you two brats. Remember what you… learned from me, good and bad, and do better."

"You have our word," Trunks said.

Later that afternoon, Vegeta felt his mind slipping away again. He wanted it, but instead he tried to focus on clouds passing by his bedroom window. There was one more person he had to see.

At that moment, Goku strolled in wearing a gaudy neon pink shirt, adjusted for his size. It said "Badman" on the back.

Vegeta smiled weakly at the spectacle. "You… look like a clown, Kakarot. I told Bulma years ago… to burn... that thing after she tricked me into wearing it."

Goku's laughter filled the room.

"I'm glad you like it. Chi-Chi had a hard time remaking it to fit me. Here, I'm going to help you sit up better. I can open the window too. It's lovely outside."

Vegeta returned his attention to the clouds. "My children say you have visited… every day this week."

"I have."

"Do you not have something…  _better_ … to occupy your time than sitting vigil by my bed? You have seen me… near death... before."

"I guess I could be overseeing my farm's harvest, Vegeta, but being here has been far more rewarding. It ranks right up there with us fighting together."

"As rewarding… as your recent companionship has been for me, we both know there is no comparison to our battles, my friend."

Those were his last words to Goku before he lost consciousness. He died two days later with his loved ones by his side.

* * *

Gure bowed her head respectfully. She knew many things, and she was certainly no stranger to grief. When Bulma reached for her hand to stand up, she felt relieved. They began to place candles around the room for the wake.

"Bulma, I hope this does not sound inappropriate, but you have shown Vegeta the kind of reverence that even he said he didn't always deserve. He was fortunate to have you."

"I suppose he was, Gure. When we finally married, I knew that many Saiyans didn't experience 'natural deaths' for reasons of which we're well aware. Then I woke up one day awestruck that we had been partners for almost 30 years, and we created these two fantastic children. I began to take our longevity for granted, I guess. He never did."

"No, he did not."

Gure helped Bulma return to the floor and brushed her hair. Together, they pinned her tresses into a tight bun.

"Tell me more about these rituals," Bulma said. "I never had the impression that Saiyans were all that sentimental, either."

Gure leaned forward to readjust her robe. "My husband Tarble received rigorous education from infancy like other Saiyans. Their technology ensured this, but his and Vegeta's mother, Queen Ariel, enhanced those lessons with strong instruction in ancient history, rituals, and the universe.

"Life and death were not so easily written off in her mind. She told my parents she tried to influence Vegeta as much as she could, too, without angering King Vegeta. They had disputes over what they considered important.

"After his birth, the doctors not only said Tarble was physically unfit; they later deemed him 'mentally weak.' This was too much for the King, so he banished him to my planet. For all of his shame, he could not bring himself to kill his son or allow anyone else to. I am grateful for that."

"What happened to the Queen, Gure?"

"She had already planned to leave with Tarble and begged her husband to let her bring Vegeta. She foresaw what was in store for the boy as Frieza gained more influence, but the King threatened to imprison her. He said she lacked faith in his and Vegeta's abilities.

"She died when Tarble was 13. He never left my planet because my people were kind and happy to raise him, and he also feared being killed. But Vegeta had long known how to find his brother because his attendants knew where the King sent him. Despite the terrible things Frieza's army did elsewhere, Vegeta managed to successfully divert attention from our region for years. He protected him."

Bulma looked over at the pallet. "He never spoke about his mother, even when I asked."

"Knowing that she left was enough," Gure said. "Vegeta may have been gifted, but he was still a child, and he was being groomed from all sides to be a killer. Tarble has not shared much more about their talks beyond that. Your spouse had many layers."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

Gure took Bulma's face into her hands. "Sister, though Vegeta's life was restored after his and Goku's struggles to save this universe, I am unsure if the cosmic debt for his other misdeeds has been fully repaid. What I can say with certainty is he loved you unconditionally, as you loved him. Take comfort in that."

Bulma lifted the sheet and folded it under Vegeta's arms. "I know he did."

Gure knelt beside her. She knew then that Bulma had made peace with herself and her loss.

"Some rituals were discarded as Saiyans began to regard their lives as fighters, as well as those they fought and conquered, as disposable," she said. "Now that Vegeta has passed, Tarble and I thought this would be an appropriate time to honor what could have been for those two little boys we just discussed."

* * *

After bathing him, Tarble and Trunks dressed Vegeta in a formal black-and-white uniform. A sash with a silver-embossed Saiyan crest was positioned on the left side of his chest. The smell of heavy incense filled the room.  
**  
** "I will stay with him all night," Tarble said. "That is tradition. Gure, your mother, and your sister will return shortly. Are you joining us?"  
****  
"Yes, uncle. I will remain here."  
  
Piccolo came in and sat down next to them. He did not speak until they lifted their heads to acknowledge him.  
  
"Thank you for being here," Trunks said.

Piccolo nodded at him. "Your father asked me to give this recording to you and Bulla. It should tell you almost everything you want to know about his past. He also gave me permission to answer all questions you may have after listening to it. **"**

Trunks set the recording in front of him as Piccolo removed his weighted clothing and placed it outside of the room.  
**  
** "I understand your desire to know, Trunks," he continued, "but I don't want this for you now. I believe you can handle the truth, but first I want you to remember Vegeta as a man who found his way after facing something greater than himself. I witnessed it firsthand when he self-immolated to stop Majin Buu. He didn't want you to see that. I haven't forgotten some of his other offenses, but I surely can't judge given my history. Goku forgave him. Others did too. That says a lot.  
****  
"Your father's only condition was that you set your mind free from his shadow, even if that means purging all emotion you've ever had for him. He also asked me to continue helping you with your addiction if you want it. Actually, his exact words were: 'Namekian, your kind of discipline would be far better for my son than anything that fool Kakarot could provide.'"  
  
"Did he really say that, Piccolo?"  
  
" _Of course_   _he did_. The three of us laughed about it. Look, come with me to New Namek for a while. It's peaceful there. You'll have time to train and meditate. Your sister could benefit as well. You don't have to walk in anyone's footsteps, but the mental and physical lessons I and the other Namekians teach will follow you throughout life."

Trunks gave the recording back to him. "I'll go with you. Perhaps I'll be ready to see this when we're through. My sister said papa proved his devotion, and that's all she needs to know for now. I might follow her lead."  
  
"I'll stay with your family tonight," Piccolo said. "Those of us who care about your well-being are privileged to support you."

Thin sunbeams peeked through the trees near the cabin the next morning. A cement cremation pyre sat several yards back from a cleared space where a small group of people stood silently.

Surrounded by the Z-fighters, Tarble opened Vegeta's coffin for family and close friends to include personal items. Bulla and Trunks slipped a pair of white fighting gloves on their father's hands and crossed his arms over his chest. Bulma placed a ceramic spoon she fed him with when he was ill on his right side. On the left, Goku laid a tiny linen bag filled with sand from the places where they fought against each other.

He stood momentarily with his head down, and then he faced everyone.

"We both found our deliverance on these sands, my friend."

Bulma used a hammerstone to drive the first nail into the coffin, followed by her children, Tarble and Gure, and finally Son Goku.

*****END*****


End file.
